


rainy day

by RedEris



Series: White Wolf White Knight [8]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2020-10-10 15:58:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20530673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedEris/pseuds/RedEris
Summary: Made use of a tumblr prompt--"Rainy Day"--to continue to explore my lasting fascination with "what Geralt makes of his life when the dust settles".





	rainy day

Geralt had hoped that it would just be a quick summer cloudburst, but even before it started he’d known better. He’d felt the cool wind of shifting weather, and now it was here for the long haul. And here he was, too, elbows on his knees, crammed into the dubious shelter under the roots of an upturned tree. Eventually, he’d probably have to accept it and just walk on in the rain. If he did, though, his leathers would be soaked through. He’d have to wear them wet for days, or risk them drying stiff and mildewed.

His knee ached. It always did in the rain.

He could have stayed at Corvo Bianco. He hadn’t needed the contract for money; B.B. never seemed to have trouble keeping that handled. But why had he done it? He could think of a number of reasons, some admirable, some less so. Because he was bored? Out of habit? Or...because they needed him.

But _did_ they need him? They could turn it over to the nearest of Emhyr’s garrisons, now. Ciri was even training Imperial monster killers now. Her letters were frequently scornful of their abilities, but more and more he also detected pride. She’d invited him to help. Another full ride, another route to never needing to kill drowners for money again. So many people willing to _take care_ of him now. No one really needed him now. No one needed him to be sitting under a rotting log in the rain, smelling of spores and earthworm.

Was it selfish to want to be needed? Surely at least a little bit. There would be no more witchers. The world needed to not need witchers. He needed to be needed. He needed to matter. Somehow.

Snarling, Geralt pulled his hood tighter around his face, and squirmed for a more comfortable spot among the roots. Even sleep would be more productive than this.


End file.
